The Princess and the Consort
by Flagg1991
Summary: Lynn Loud Sr. has very unfatherly thoughts about his daughter, Lola. Lemon. Oneshot. Lynn Sr. x aged up Lola.


For far longer than he cared to admit, Lynn Loud Sr. had been having thoughts about his daughter, Lola, thoughts that a father ought not have, thoughts that became more enticing and more insistent as her body developed. At fifteen she was tall and stately with budding breasts and shapely hips like her mother's. She bore herself like a queen, prim and proper, her posture straight and her head held aloft. She walked in grace, and and her little closed lipped smiles were like those of haughty princesses in Renaissance paintings - beautiful, proud, and knowing.

Lynn had raised five daughters before Lola, and never once had he found himself tracing the soft curve of their throat or trailing his eyes down their legs - never had he felt awkward or clumsy around them, but with Lola he did.

Over time, he began to make excuses to be admitted into her presence - he bought her expensive jewelry to lay finely against her sun kissed skin like sapphires in the sand, brought her roses once a week, taking her august smiles and whispered "Thank you, Daddy" as the sweetest reward. When she swept into the room, her blonde hair warm like summer wheat, his eyes went to her and his heart began to race. His mind would cast adrift, and always to his little princess it would go - to fantasies of kissing her besparkled lips, of plunging his hands into her hair and laying her back on sheets of satin, of feeling her heart pound in steady time against his own.

These thoughts made him feel dirty, wicked...and so aroused he couldn't think straight. When he was around her, his hands would tremble and his throat would constrict. He would feel warm all over, and the special place between his legs would tingle with sinful desire, would yearn to sink slowly into her burning center as his lips kissed her delicate throat, as his hands roughly squeezed her breasts, making her breath catch and her body squirm in pleasure.

It was wrong, but he needed Lola in a way a man needs a woman who is not his daughter, in a way that consumed him with fever and kept him awake at night.

And, he decided, he would have her.

On a cool September evening, he found himself alone with her, Rita and the children visiting aunt Ruth. He sat on the couch fighting the urge to climb the stairs and enter his pricesses's chambers. He was losing, and just when it seemed he would cave, fleet footsteps sounded on the stairs. He looked over his shoulder, and Lola came into the room on a tide of majesty, dressed in a sleeveless pink and white striped button-up dress that stopped just above her knees. Her golden hair spilled over her slender shoulders and her eyes twinkled like starry skies over exotic lands. She wore a silver chain around her neck, a heart pendant resting between the swell of her breasts, and diamond earrings that caught and refracted the light. Her feet were bare and her pink-polished toes dug into the carpet as she approached.

He swallowed around a lump in his throat and turned away, his heart slamming against his ribs and his member stirring. Suddenly it was very hot, and his lungs wouldn't expand. She came around the edge of the couch and sat next to him in a swish of fragrant air, her knee pressing against his and her head turning, a slow smile creeping across her glossy pink lips. "Hi, Daddy," she said, her eyes half-lidding.

"Hi, honey," he forced, his gaze darting to her bare legs - so soft and smooth, like silk, but probably much, much warmer. "How's it going?"

She shrugged. "Okay." She stuck her bottom lip out in a cute, childish pout. "Except I'm lonely."

Lynn frowned. "Oh, honey," he drew, "I'm sorry." He laid his hand on her knee, and the heat of her skin flowed into him, making his heart skip a beat. Their eyes locked, and Lynn lost himself, all will and self-determination he had left snuffing out like a candle in the wind. He grazed his palm slowly up her thigh, the crisp rustle of his skin against hers making him tremble with need.. She bit her bottom lip, and Lynn leaned in, his hand touching her cheek and cupping it, her sweet breath filling his mouth as his face hovered inches from hers. Her muddy eyes filled with vulnerable need, and Lynn kissed her, his tongue dancing across hers and tentatively exploring the inside of her mouth. For a moment she simply sat there, her hands on her knees, then she kissed him back, the taste of her saliva like ambrosia on the tip of his tongue.

Their heads tilted side to side as the kiss deepened. Lynn's hand brushed the hem of her skirt up her thigh and Lola's hand went to his chest, her fingers curling into the thick fabric of his sweater. He turned and climbed onto her lap, his knees planting into the sofa on either side of her legs; the kiss grew hungrier, and his hands fluttered to her throat, his thumb grazing her wildly throbbing pulse and pressing against it, making her gasp. His hands instinctively tightened around her neck and squeezed; her body shuddered in ecstasy and she clung desperately to his shirt, her tongue swirling faster around his, more needily.

Lynn slipped his hand into her dress and found her quaking breast; it was warm and soft in palms made rough my years of hard, manly work. Lust overcame him, and gripping the dress in both hands, he ripped, buttons popping off and flying into the ether. She was naked underneath, a silver ring in her navel and her stomach taut, quivering as lust bubbled up inside of her. He slipped his hand between her legs and cupped her moist sex, his fingers stroking against her satiny lips and drawing sharp exhalations from her lips; the taste of her breath intoxicated him, and he clamped her bottom lip lightly between his teeth, pulling it back and staring into her wide, hazy eyes as he dd so.

He teased his middle finger up through the dank valley between her folds and she bit her lip, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. His rod strained against the seam of his pants, and when his middle finger dipped into her inky well, it jerked violently like a dog on a leash.

She moaned breathily in the back of her throat. "Oh, Daddy…"

He traced his finger around the rim of her opening, her wet, young heat burning in the most beautiful agony he had ever felt. She spread her legs to give him easier access, and he pushed his fingers deeper, raking her quivering, virgin walls. "Daddy, that feels so good," she purred.

"You're so beautiful, Lola," he said.

"I want to be beautiful," she said and rocked her hips against his hand, taking his fingers deeper and wincing, "for you."

He held the back of her neck in his free hand and stroked his fingers through her hair; his thumb found the nub of her arousal and rubbed in slow, gentle circles. Her body shook and a series of moans trembled from her lips. She held tighter to the front of his shirt and spread her legs further apart. Lynn rubbed quicker, pressed rougher. Panting heavily, she tilted her head back; a slurry smile played at the corner of her lips and her closed eyelids fluttered as if in a pleasant dream. Lynn kissed her forehead, her temple, the tip of her nose, his lips lingering on the salty taste of her flesh and his arousal building like steam in a boiler.

Cupping her face in his hands, he guided her down onto the couch, her face burying into the cushion and her butt thrusting into the air.

Giving in totally to his lust, Lynn hiked the dress up around her hips, revealing her moist, pink center, bared for him and only him. WIth one hand, he undid his belt and unzipped his pants, reaching into his underwear and bringing out his thick erection; a bead of clear precum formed at his tip and dribbled down his tight shaft like honey down a comb. He roughly grabbed Lola's hips and prodded her entrance with his head, his essence mixing with hers; fevered heat wafted from her girlhood and broke across him in waves, making his head spin.

"Please do it, Daddy," she said, "I'm so horny for you."

Gripping her tight, his nails digging into her flesh, he surged his hips forward, his rod pushing her walls apart and filling her. She sucked a great intake of breath and let it out in a shivery stream. He pulled back slowly, then shot forward again, his head planting a fatherly kiss on the opening of her womb. "Daddy," she panted and pushed back against him, her hands splaying on the sofa and her head bowing; tangled blonde hair fell over her face like a wedding veil.

Lynn leaned forward and shoved her face into the cushion as his hips began to thrust back and forth in a steady, rhythmic motion, his balls slapping roughly against her clit and his other hand biting into her hip. She met every one of his strokes, her muscles squeezing and her walls rippling along his length like wet silk on burning iron. "Faster, Daddy," she panted, "I need it."

He pressed her face harder into the cushion and threw his full weight against her, the meeting of his groin and her butt producing a meaty slapping sound. He threaded his fingers through her hair and yanked her head back like pulling on the reigns of a horse, and her passage clutched him fiercely. She moaned in contentment as he slammed deep, his teeth baring and his eyes narrowing. His climax was building in his depths and every grunt that tore from Lola's throat pushed him closer to the edge.

"D-Daddy," she muttered, "I-something's c-coming…"

"Let it come, honey," he hissed through his teeth, "cum for Daddy."

Lola pushed herself back against him, taking him all the way to his base, then started to shake as her orgasm broke over her; her walls clamped around him, and he expanded painfully against them. He yanked back on her hair and thrusted one final time, touching her cervix as he released, a blast of leaden seed squirting deep into her most sacred place and filling it to the brim. She jerked forward and cried out, convulsions tearing through her like ricocheting bullets. Lynn held on as he shot another load into her core, then another, their essence mixing and spilling out around his pumping shaft in burning rivulets.

When it was over, Lola flopped onto her stomach, and Lynn lay limply atop her, his lips pressed to her earlobe and the sweet scent of her hair filling his nose. "How was that?" he asked.

Lola hummed. "That was _sooo_ good, Daddy." She turned her head and looked at him from the corner of her eye, her lips turning sharply up. "Can we do it again?"

Lynn smiled, kissed the back of her neck and ran his fingers along her bare arm. "Of course we can," he said, "come on and I'll tuck you in."


End file.
